The Potion Master's Hair
by Moirai and Meskhenet
Summary: A typical conversation between the trio innocently turns to the greatest mystery of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: why is Snape’s hair always greasy? Hermione, as always, has an answer.


**Disclaimer:** Anything that actually makes sense belongs to J.K. Rowling. Anything idiotic is completely and entirely ours. Okay, well maybe not entirely... but still, you have to ask first before you can borrow. Once again, meskhenet will deal with anyone who doesn't comply sound of arrow being notched (No, meskhenet, you can't use your longbow yet!)

**Author:** Moirai

**Original Idea:** meskhenet

**Beta-Reader:** meskhenet

**Pairings:** Snape and… (meskhenet: i love keeping y'all in suspense. Eek! I just said ya'll.) (Moirai: ;;)

**Synopsis:** How a typical conversation innocently turns to the greatest mystery of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: why is Snape's hair always greasy?

Flames will be tolerated (…dealt with accordingly by meskhenet…) but reviews would **very** much be appreciated. So, please R&R.

**-- -•- --**

**The Potion Master's Hair**

**-- -•- --**

It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly in the great blue sky, but not so much as to burn. It was warm out with the occasional, but welcome, refreshing breeze. The copper grass was soft; the golden trees were lush and the flowers were just as lovely as they were in the spring. All this beauty, wasted on the school populace who was preoccupied with getting to their next class. It's a good thing that at least **one** course took place outside…

"What a great start to the year!" exclaimed Harry Potter as he and his two best friends entered the castle. Their next class was inside the drab, stone walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, however, the mood instilled by their sojourn outside did not falter in the least.

"It was!" agreed Hermione Granger. "Hagrid has really improved as a teacher. His courses were organized very well this year. So well, in fact, that he managed to keep Malfoy in line!" the brains of the group chortled, brushing some of her bushy brown hair away from her face.

"Actually, I was talking about the weather," shrugged the boy-who-lived, "but Malfoy without a nasty remark, now that was priceless!" His green eyes sparkled victoriously behind his round glasses. He laughed, almost maniacally. Hermione discreetly distanced herself from the boy wonder.

"Have you guys gone bloody bonkers?" exclaimed Ron, Hermione muttering 'he has' and pointing at Potter. "It was the sight of that _**Googlemoogle**_ that kept Malfoy's mouth shut! I can't blame him either. It was the worse class I've ever had!"

"Oh, Ron! Even **you** have to admit that it was an interesting class." badgered Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"It might have been interesting, but I think he's just upset over getting peed on by that thing." Harry commented casually. Ron's face turned almost as red as his hair, and Hermione giggled.

"Oh cheer up, Ron. I mean, it could've been worse. I might not have known those cleaning and sanitizing spells…"

"It can't get any worse than being used as a toilet…" snapped Ron hurriedly, "Anyways, what class do we have next?" Harry stifled a laugh at Ron's sudden attempt to change the subject while Hermione sighed in irritation. She pulled out a parchment that was neatly tucked between some of the books she carried. Her eyes widened as she read. Harry peered over her shoulder, as he too was curious. He groaned when he too read the next block in the timetable.

"What?" asked Ron cautiously. The reactions of his friends' didn't give him the impression that it would be good.

"We have potions," whimpered Harry pitifully.

Ron became very pale. "I was wrong."

"Ron, are you okay?" asked Hermione softly. She was right to be worried, for he looked like he was about to faint.

"Oh, of course I am! I get peed on in front of my own class, as well as the Slytherins, and now I have to put up with Snape, who will probably know all about the whole incident because Draco's his pet!"

"Probably! Maybe! If! You're getting upset over nothing Ron!" chided Hermione, exasperated. That's when she and Ron noticed Harry buckled over, his back shaking in laughter, which he seemed to be so keen on hiding.

"What so funny?" asked Ron, offended.

"Snape's pet… Draco…" he gasped between muffled chuckles.

"Harry?" Ron cocked an eyebrow in confusion and Hermione too had a clueless look on her face.

"Think about it." Was all he could manage. The words bounced back in forth in their minds as they tried to figure out the punch line. Suddenly an appalling image of a smiling Snape with Draco on a leash came to mind.

"Harry!" they exclaimed in unison with horrified expressions. Harry couldn't hold it in any longer and broke into a painful fit of laughter.

"Come… on… It's funny!" he gasped.

"No it's not, his nose is funny! **That** is just…" Ron's face scrunched up in disgust and he shuddered.

"You know… I've always… wondered what happened to his nose…" said Harry with teary eyes as he was recovering from the peals laughter.

"What about his hair? Yuck! You'd think a spell could keep it from getting greasy…" Ron added, all of his previous problems slowly being forgotten.

"Hey! He's the potions teacher; maybe he had some kind of accident. He might have had of his 'perfect' potions blow up in his face!" Harry suggested, laughing again.

"Or maybe it's some kind of condition, like dandruff, except it makes his hair all greasy..." Ron was really getting into the subject.

"Or maybe he got hexed by one of the DADA teachers when he tried to steal the job…"

"Those are pathetic theories." The boys froze, and then turned to Hermione. "First, he's a potions teacher and if he messed up once, he could fix it with another potion. Secondly, there **are** spells for dandruff or any other scalp condition. Finally, if he was hexed by a DADA teacher, that teacher would have been fired and Mrs. Pomfrey would fix Snape up."

"Well, do **you** have a better idea?" asked the boys simultaneously.

"Yes, actually, I do. Want to hear it?" They hesitated. Hermione was acting kind of odd but in the end, they nodded for her to proceed.

**-- -•- --**

Down the rough stone stairways that lead to the dungeons below the great castle, it was cold and dark. The only light was the eerie glow of torches placed very far apart. The air was dank and musty, which contributed to the unwelcoming atmosphere. Yet, to one wizard, it was home.

In the classroom behind the old wooden door where the stairs end was none other than Severus Snape, the potions master. He sat at an antique desk, his back straight and stiff. Armed with a sleek dark feather and a small pot of black ink, he attacked the essays that lay before him mercilessly. This is what he did in the ten minutes he had before his next class was to arrive.

With one last skillful stroke, he finished his task. He then proceeded to quickly clean his plume and put the pen, ink and essays back in their respectful places. Upon finishing this, he continued on to the next chore: Preparing for the class. He opened a deep drawer in his desk and pulled out a neat schedule. He used this to gather the necessary equipment he would need. Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Bubotubers, Kappa paws, Poppy petals, Hippogriff-.

_For the love of Merlin!_ Thought an aggravated Snape. _Hagrid forgot to bring the bloody Hippogriff feathers for my class today!_

Dumbledore had promised Snape that they would arrive on time but of course he had to get that forgetful oaf to deliver them. He stood thoughtfully next to his cupboard of herbs then sighed. How much time did he have left? Five minutes. He sighed again. He would just have to go get them himself. Since he was going to Hagrid's hut to pick up the feathers, he might as well remind him of the importance of being punctual.

After organizing what he _did_ have for his class, he left his dungeon to make a rare visit to the surface. (Not including meal times. ;;)

The stonewalls above weren't as rough and dank as his dungeons and the corridors were completely alit by sunlight. God, how he hated being up here, it was all so... cheerful. Keeping a quick even pace he made his way to the front gate.

That was when he saw her.

As she passed by, time seemed to slow, a power she alone possessed. He appreciated this unique charm of hers, though he constantly denied it. Whenever she was around, his mind was free. His mental barriers melted away. She was the only one who could banish all thoughts from his mind. He could feel it happening. The world of his mind, the world of his body, they were fading away to a comforting darkness. All that was left was her: the Goddess of Time, the ageless beauty with an ancient wisdom. He was at peace.

What seemed to last an eternity ended in a second. He had just enough time to gather his wits and restore his cold exterior. With a curt nod, he hurried off. Whipping around the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The feathers would wait for another class. Right now, he needed a cold shower.

**-- -•- --**

"And so, he is so infatuated that he is in constant need of a cold shower. Since cold water doesn't clean well, his hair is always greasy as it is never properly washed." Hermione finished with a smugly just as they reached the door to the dungeons. Harry and Ron were deathly pale and frozen with horror. Harry was the first to recover.

"Ewww!"

"Oh, grow up!" she sighed exasperatedly, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. Grasping the circular bronze handle, she yanked the door open and entered the classroom, followed reluctantly by her best friends.

"Hang on," said Harry in a lowered voice as they took their seats, "this is Snape we're talking about!"

"Your point?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. The rest of the class was filing into the classroom now.

"My point is, there is absolutely **no** way that Snape is capable of being in…" shudder. "Of having a crush on someone." Ron seemed relieved by Harry's reasoning and nodded in agreement. Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"Good morning, class…" drawled out the disdainful voice of Professor Snape. The class fell silent and all gazes turned to the front. This wasn't unusual, however, two jaws dropped and a certain bushy haired girl smirked victoriously. "Today we will be brewing a…" he stopped when two droplets of water dripped down his face and splashed against his notes on his desk. His hair was soaked. For a brief instant, the trio could've sworn that he was blushing. But it faded as soon as it appeared, if it ever did. With a wave of his wand hot air blew from the tip and the professor quickly dried his hair and returned to his lecture.

"Hermione" whispered Ron fearfully "How do you know all this?" she smirked uncharacteristically.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I have my sources…"

**THE END**

_**Googlemoogle**_ meskhenet's tribute to the movie Evolution (meskhenet: it's more than just a movie, Moirai.)


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